


the oldest and strongest emotion

by ellipsisthegreat



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsisthegreat/pseuds/ellipsisthegreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard had a hard time breathing. (For tresa’s spring fling request.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	the oldest and strongest emotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tresa_cho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tresa_cho/gifts).



> This is basically right in the nick of time. *sobs* I really hope tresa likes it! Hopefully this is an accurate portrayal of a panic attack; a million apologies if not, I tried really hard to get as close as possible. (Thanks to dommi for helping me out with that and betaing!) Title comes from H.P. Lovecraft’s quote: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.” Enjoy!

Leonard had a hard time breathing.

His head felt fuzzy, lungs burned, mouth opened and closed, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. His hands clutched the armrests. The rest of him shook, unable or unwilling to be anchored even by his white-knuckled grip. His heart shook most of all, thudding and thumping so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.

The seatbelt was too tight; had to be part of why he couldn’t breathe. He clawed at the buckles but couldn’t even find the button to release them. Gave up and curled his arms up next to his ears as someone screamed but couldn’t block out the noise. Kicked his feet to try and stand up or break out of the belt or run away but couldn’t find any traction on the floor of the shuttle.

The shuttle burned around him. More screams assaulted his ears.

Someone said something to him. Put a hand on his arm. He jerked. The metal supports groaned behind him.

He was going to die. They were all going to die.

“Bones,” said someone. There was an edge of worry to the otherwise calm voice.

He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t form the words. Pushed his shoulders out and pulled his chest in as a sharp pain lanced through his heart.

“I want a team from Medical in the shuttle bay as soon as we land,” said the someone. “Bones what’s happening? Are you having a heart attack? Talk to me, Bones.”

“Panic attack,” he said finally. Leaned back in his seat. Let out a shuddering breath. Couldn’t inhale. Slumped forward again as a wave of nausea washed over him, bile burning the back of his throat.

“Okay. What do I do? Bones, what do I do?”

“Breathe, help me.” He tried to gesture. Whined sharply in the back of his throat. Tried to swallow. His mouth was as dry as his throat.

“Yeah, um, breathe,” Jim said. It had to be Jim. Only Jim could be so brilliant when everyone else was panicking but completely useless when it was Leonard. He followed the statement with what sounded like Lamaze breathing.

“Fucking idiot.” Leonard forced himself to take a long breath through his nose. Blew out. Choked back the vomit that tried to come out with the air.

“No, yeah, I totally meant breathe like that.” Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably. “And you can talk to me if you need to, about whatever.”

His eyes opened just long enough to fix Jim with an unimpressed look before the shuttle trembled again.

“Or I could just breathe with you, totally,” Jim said.

“Stop talking.”

When he finally reopened his eyes, no one was screaming. The shuttle wasn’t on fire—wasn’t even shaking, anymore. He was sure it was shaking before. Maybe it was just him. He lowered his arms down to his lap and leaned forward so they were pressing into his thighs instead of trembling.

Uhura was looking between him and Jim, lips pursed. Spock was very carefully staring straight ahead; Chekov likewise kept his gaze averted. Scotty stared down at his hands, coughing awkwardly.

“Okay?” Jim asked with a hesitant hand on Leonard’s arm.

“Embarrassed,” he gritted out through his teeth as he struggled to regain his breath. “I haven’t had a panic attack in fucking years.”

“No, Bones, it’s okay. It’s—shit happens, man, it’s fine,” Jim said.

“It’s not fine,” he said. “I’m a doctor, dammit. I’m over this, I’m. I’m over it.”

“You’re allowed to be afraid, Doctor,” Uhura said, eyes finally coming to rest on him.

“A Starfleet doctor, afraid of space,” he said. Let out a slightly hysterical laugh. Covered his eyes with a hand in an attempt to hide the tremor in it.

“Aviophobia,” Jim said. “A fear of dying in something that flies.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” he said. Tried and failed to regulate his breathing. Again.

“Don’t do that, you’re going to give yourself another attack or start hyperventilating or something.” Tentatively, Jim put a hand over Leonard’s.

“I’m fine,” Leonard said firmly, pulling away. “How long until this death trap gets back to the bigger death trap?”

“Pulling in now, sir,” Sulu said.

“Good.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and all but threw himself out of the shuttle. Barely restrained himself from breaking into a sprint.

Put the highest security lock possible on the door to his room.

Sat on his bed. Clenched and unclenched his still-trembling hands.

It really had been years since his last full-on panic attack. Since his hands shook as he boarded a shuttle or stepped onto a transporter pad. Since he’d had to lock himself in a dark, windowless room so no one could see him overtaken by fear.

“Pull yourself together, McCoy,” he said aloud. “Ain’t no thing. Just a routine shuttle hop.”

Except for how it shook and the alarms blared and Uhura reached over to press her pointer and middle fingers against Spock’s.

He forced himself to ride out the wave of terror that passed through him at the memory. Grit his teeth together. Dug his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

Took a deep, put-upon breath when the computer chimed softly to let him know someone was at the door.

“Let Jim know I wouldn’t have locked the door if I wanted someone here,” he said. Pursed his lips together when the door slid open a few moments later. “Jim—”

“What happened back there?” Jim asked. Loomed over him, jaw tight.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Leonard said firmly.

“Now you are,” Jim agreed. “Back there you flipped your shit, Bones, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he said again. “It’s what I get for going on an away mission overworked and stressed and tired, and it won’t happen again, Captain.”

“I’ve never seen you like that, Lieutenant Commander,” Jim said sharply. “Even when we met you were—”

“Drunk,” he said. “I was drunk, Jim.”

Jim’s voice dropped, soft and pleading. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

Leonard sighed. Massaged his temples with one hand while gripping the edge of the table with the other. “I requested private shuttle lessons in the Academy. Explained my…my phobia and talked to counselors and got over it.” He looked away, shoulders tense. “I can usually keep a handle on it, at least.”

“What set you off?” Jim asked, not unkindly.

“I told you, I was overworked and—”

“But something set you off. You were fine when we left and when we started back.”

“The shuttle shook,” he said, voice cracking. “Not normal shaking, Jim; I know normal shaking. I can deal with normal shaking. The fucking emergency sirens went off, and people were screaming—”

“No one was screaming.”

“They were, I heard them.”

“Maybe when your attack started you thought the sirens were screaming, but no one on that shuttle made a sound except you, and that was just hard breathing.”

“No, I heard it. I heard it.” His voice broke midsentence.

“You’ve never done this when _Enterprise_ shakes,” said Jim. “When we’re under attack or something goes sideways.”

“I’m usually busy,” he said. “Working on a patient or, or running around like a damn chicken with its head cut off. I’m okay as long as I’m not thinking about it.”

Jim’s lips quirked up into a smirk. “So from now on I’ll make sure to get injured or something before any and all shuttle rides.”

“I will let you bleed to death, don’t think I won’t.”

Jim laughed. Leonard smiled minutely. Looked down at his hands. Licked his lips. Jim’s laughter tapered off.

Jim sat next to him with a sigh, their shoulders and thighs brushing together.

“I don’t know what to say to make this better,” Jim said.

“I don’t know that there are any words.” Silence fell.

“I could give you a hug.” Jim shrugged when Leonard gave him an incredulous look. “I didn’t say it was a good idea I just said I could.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, huffing out a soft laugh. Let himself lean into Jim’s side, head coming to rest tentatively on the other man’s shoulder.

Jim took a breath like he was about to say something. Stopped. Took Leonard’s hand gently, their fingers curling together, and rested his head atop Leonard’s.

“We have to go back down tomorrow,” Jim said.

Leonard’s jaw tightened.

“I can make your excuses, but if I need you for the next mission…”

“I know.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to imagine stepping back on a shuttle. Felt like his lungs were constricting around his heart. Like something was drilling holes into the lining of his stomach. Like he was going to vibrate right out of his skin.

“Bones?”

He forced himself to say, “I’ll set up an appointment with M’Benga. Tomorrow.”

“And let me know if you need—if there’s anything I can do,” Jim said, thumb rubbing Leonard’s hand.

“Stay,” Leonard said quietly. Clung to Jim’s hand, the rope pulling him out of the abyss. “Just stay.”

Jim squeezed back. “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

The End


End file.
